Roses
by Collie Parkillo
Summary: Abraham isn't very good at giving gifts, and Parker is even worse at accepting them. Parkeraham fluff, AU.


**Author's Note: i don't even know what this is i wanted to write valentine's day fluff and i also wanted to write parkeraham so i guess we ended up here**

**Disclaimer: The Long Walk is not mine. Only the dumb fluff fanfics are.**

Abraham was not very big on holidays.

The whole 'celebrating with the ones you love' prospect had never been particularly appealing to him. He was all for celebrating, but, honestly, there were very few people he'd want to unwrap Christmas presents or do whatever the fuck it was that you did on Valentines' day with.

So he was still unsure as to why he had just bought a gigantic bouquet of roses and was now walking down the street with them. They were an obnoxious shade of red and were irritatingly heavy, but he was pretty sure he couldn't return them.  
He'd intended to give them to Parker, but, really, he doubted that Parker would like them very much. Parker was Parker. Parker was his swearing, usually angry, Illinois-born roommate, and he was definitely not the type to enjoy roses.

As he entered the apartment building, Abraham reminded himself that this was a purely platonic gift, and he didn't feel _that way _about his roommate. His roommate, whom he was almost sure had at least four girlfriends and was very decidedly not gay.

Not that Abraham was. This was a nice, platonic bouquet of roses for his roommate who had been putting up with his shit for about a year. And it was Valentines' Day. Surely that made it a little less weird. Or maybe it made it more weird.

The doorman greeted him and probably asked him why he was carrying a bunch of roses, but he wasn't really listening. Abraham's rule of thumb was usually that if he didn't care what someone was saying, just giving an affirmative would work out fine. Although, responding to "how was your day?" with "sure" often didn't go over too well. But who fucking cares, anyways, he thought.

After standing in the elevator for an awkwardly long amount of time with an old woman, Abraham finally reached his and Parker's apartment. He considered telling Parker that he'd come home, but decided against it. It'd be less awkward.

Parker appeared to be draped over the couch like a sleeping cat. Abraham couldn't actually tell whether he was sleeping or not. He was just...lying there.

There was a discarded gaming console on the ground, so Abraham guessed that he'd had Barkovitch over for three hours of Call of Duty again. Honestly, Abraham wasn't sure why Parker hung out with the guy since they hated each other, but they liked the same games and it kept Parker from complaining about the weather for a bit so he supposed he didn't have a problem with it.

After a few minutes of awkward silence, Abraham decided it would be best to say hi or something. "Uh, hey, Parker?"

"What the fuck do you want?" His roommate was undoubtedly awake.

"Um," was all Abraham could manage.

Parker rolled off the couch and collected himself on the carpet. He looked quizzically at Abraham. "What?"

Abraham shoved the roses at him. "Uh, here."

Parker looked them up and down, still looking really confused. "Uh, what are these?"

"Roses, dumbass." Abraham was finally able to make a coherent, socially acceptable sentence.

"Yeah, I can see that, but why the fuck did you get me roses?"

"Uh..."

"Oh, fucking please, don't tell me you..."

"No! Not like that!" Abraham's face flushed.

"Alright, alright, need to get all flustered, Abe." Parker rolled his eyes. "Well, thanks, shithead. I guess." Parker then walked back to the couch, roses in hand.

Abraham knew that Parker was Parker and wasn't too thrilled with being nice, but he'd expected at least some sort of reaction. Sure, maybe he'd just bought a shitty bouquet out of niceness, but the fact that Parker hadn't even cared made him want to kick something.

"Want to watch something shitty on TV or something?" Parker offered, gesturing to the couch space next to him.

"Sure." Abraham sighed and sat down next to him. They ended up just sitting there watching some dumb show about guys who wrangled crocodiles for about an hour, but Abraham couldn't get the fact that Parker hadn't cared at all out of his head.

It had started to get dark outside and the apartment had gotten considerably colder, so Abraham got up and grabbed a blanket for him and Parker. He made sure to remind himself that the fact that he was extremely close to Parker was completely platonic and they were just watching TV together. Not cuddling or whatever. Although Parker was really _warm._

"Hey, Abraham?"

"What?"

"Thanks for the fucking roses. It was sweet. In a weird way."

Abraham turned red and had to remind himself that he was a nineteen-year-old boy and not a blushing schoolgirl. "Do you mean that?"

"Yeah. You are a total fucking sap, but you're a good sap." Parker then leaned over and brushed his lips across the other boy's. It was over in about a second, but somehow it left Abraham completely stunned.

"What'd you do that for?"

Parker smiled and tried to discreetly slip his arm around Abraham, but it ended up getting awkwardly caught in the blanket before finding its way around Abraham's shoulders. "Does it matter?"

Abraham sighed, content not to question Parker for now. "I guess not."

* * *

**the only thing i'm good for is writing bad fluff it's all i can contribute to society bye**


End file.
